The foot of Time so soundless never pass'd As when sweet fancy wove her magic thralls - Go, mourner, to the Muses, haste thee, haste, And bring thy griefs where Peter's shadow falls To heal thee in his passing: call for aid Of joy, that quenches being and its gall - Sad! that the consciousness of Life must fade Before the bliss it yields be felt at all: We cannot sit, inertly calm'd, to hear The silence broken by the step of life; We must have music while we languish here, Loud music, to annul our spirit's strife, To make the soul with pleasant fancies rife, And soothe the stranger from another sphere! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON PLAYWRIGHT (1) by BEN JONSON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 51. WILLOWWOOD (3) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE PEACE: TO HEAVEN ON A BEETLE by ARISTOPHANES PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY OF HENRY THE EIGHTH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |